This is part of a series exploring how evangelical Christians in the U.S. have reached this point politically and culturally. See below for links to previous posts.
If you’ve been following this series, you’ve seen us surveying some historical patterns of the evangelical movement over the last 100 years or so. Most recently, we’ve gone from discussing evangelicals during the Bill Clinton era to evangelicals during the Obama Administration. This brings us up to the election and first administration of Donald Trump—and that’s likely making some readers a little nervous! Let me reassure you I have no intention of attempting to adjudicate all the controversial things Trump may or may not have said or done. I’m a pastor, not a political commentator, and I’m not seeking to take on a more political role. That’s not what this series of posts is about. The question I’m exploring isn’t what specifically did Trump do or say, it’s: Why do evangelical Christians have such radically different perceptions of current events (including what Donald Trump may have said or done)? Why are we—followers of Jesus Christ who desire to be faithful to Scripture—seeing these things so differently?
In the next three posts in this series, I want to draw on some of what we’ve already explored in previous posts. This is where we begin connecting the dots, seeing how existing patterns have not only brought us to this point, but maybe even made this current situation inevitable in some ways. How did we get stuck on this path, and is there anything we can do to change course? In this post and then two more, we’re going to look at different ways we’re now reaping what we’ve sown as evangelical Christians. These patterns overlap and are interwoven to some degree, but we’ll try to analyze each of them, and see how one has led to another.
Being motivated by fear and suspicion is something we can see at times all through the history of the church. Even in the New Testament era, the legalistic Pharisees were largely motivated by fear and suspicion of what they couldn’t control. These impulses drove much of their interaction with Jesus and, later, his followers. For anyone motivated this way, this fear and suspicion will naturally result in feelings of animosity and even contempt, viewing the “other” as a despised enemy, needing to be defeated and eliminated.
We see this underlying motivation in the development of fundamentalist Christians in the early 20th century, who went from simply expressing their faith in core, biblical truths to being fearful and suspicious of anyone who didn’t see virtually everything the way they did. They felt the need to protect themselves, their families, churches and schools, hiding away not only from society and theologically liberal forms of Christianity, but even from evangelical Christians who dared to hold differing views on secondary issues. They feared what they couldn’t control, anything that challenged any of their views. This fear caused them to assume the rightness and certainty of everything they believed, and to be suspicious of any claim of truth coming from a different source.
In the biblical Gospels, we see Jesus actively and thoughtfully engaging people, even asking for their input (Luke 10:26): “What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?” To someone who was not yet a follower of Christ, but who was beginning to understand, Jesus could say: “You are not far from the Kingdom of God [Mark 12:34].” The Scripture says of him: “He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle [Matthew 12:20].” Ironically, the religious leaders were the ones for whom Jesus often had harsh words.
Whenever the apostle Paul traveled to a new city, he would invariably go to the local synagogue and seek to share with them the good news of Jesus, even though this usually wasn’t a welcoming environment. Paul accepted an invitation from a group of pagan philosophers to speak to them about the message of Jesus. This was in Athens, a city filled with a shocking number of idols erected for the worship of false gods. Instead of angrily condemning and denouncing them, Paul finds a way to engage them respectfully: “I notice that you are very religious in every way [Acts 17:22].” He quotes—approvingly—from their own pagan culture (Acts 17:28), and uses their “idol to an unknown god” as a way of introducing them to Christ (Acts 17:23). Without compromising the truth or morality of the way of Christ, Paul sought to build bridges to others to help them understand the gospel of Jesus. He explains this in 1 Corinthians 9:22-23 (emphasis added):
When I am with those who are weak, I share their weakness, for I want to bring the weak to Christ. Yes, I try to find common ground with everyone, doing everything I can to save some. I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings.
Over and over again in his letters to the churches, Paul teaches the people to follow this pattern. Here’s just one example from Colossians 4:5-6:
Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone.
In Romans 2:24, 27, he even challenges some Jewish believers, overly impressed with their own morality and spirituality:
No wonder the Scriptures say, “The Gentiles blaspheme the name of God because of you.” . . . In fact, uncircumcised Gentiles who keep God’s law will condemn you Jews who are circumcised and possess God’s law but don’t obey it.
Jesus made it clear in his prayer for his disciples that he wasn’t intending for them to be removed from the world around them, but was sending them into the world, to be faithful, loving witnesses in and to the world. Jesus and his apostles beautifully modeled for us how to do this. But many Christians—motivated by fear and suspicion—have instead sought to do everything they can to escape the world, to wall off themselves and their families from the world, ignoring the teaching and example of Christ.
Some Christians go to great lengths to separate themselves from a sinful world. (There’s nothing wrong, of course, with sheltering your children as long as possible from the immorality of the world around us. But even this should be done in a wise way, preparing them for eventually living in the world.) Let’s imagine two Christians. One Christian is seeking to live in and to faithfully, thoughtfully engage the world around them. The other Christian is seeking, as much as possible, to escape from the world. If these two are talking, and the engaging Christian seeks to challenge and encourage the escaping Christian to be more present in the world and to find opportunities to engage the world, the escaping Christian will often respond by assuming the engaging Christian is ignoring or even denying the ugly sinfulness of the world. They’ll demand: “Can’t you see how sinful those people are, how sinful the culture around us is?”
But these Christians, seeking to escape, are forgetting the example and teachings of Jesus. They forget that Jesus voluntarily came to a sinful world. If anyone understands the vile moral condition of the world, it’s Jesus! But he seemed to intentionally seek out the despised dregs of society. He not only condescended to share his gospel with them, he spent time with prostitutes and tax collectors. Jesus didn’t condone or justify their sin, but he also didn’t avoid them, or stand outside with a picket sign, shouting preachy slogans of condemnation. He spent time with them, he lovingly, gently and thoughtfully engaged them. He treated even prostitutes with respect. This would have been just as awkward and uncomfortable then as it would be today—probably even more so. And—just as today—the fundamentalist Pharisees were offended and outraged, repeatedly accusing: “He spends time with sinners!”
Jesus was absolutely opposed to their sin, but he refused to treat these people as enemies. These people were part of the very reason why he was there! He was there for them. John 3:17 tells us Jesus didn’t come into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world. But if we’re motivated by fear and suspicion of the world, we quickly begin to see the people as the enemy, instead of the sin. Instead of going into the world for the sake of the world—as Jesus sends us—we see society as the enemy. And so we begin to despise and hate the culture around us.
It never ceases to amaze me how shocked Christians can be that the world acts like . . . the world (gasp)! “Some of those people watch and listen to things I don’t think Christians should watch and listen to, and they use language I don’t like! Those non-Christians don’t pray in schools and they won’t even wish me ‘Merry Christmas’!!” Where in the world did we get the idea it’s our job to get non-Christians to (insincerely) act like Christians? Don’t you think the prostitutes and tax collectors used language they shouldn’t use, and wore clothing that wasn’t appropriate? Jesus doesn’t call us to have blinders on so we can’t see the sin of the world, but he calls us to engage sinners despite the ugliness of their sin. We’re not to join in and do things we shouldn’t do as Christians—and we all need to be mindful of what content is unedifying for us to be consuming on a regular basis—but God doesn’t call us to organize a boycott of the world because it’s the world. The fact people are trapped in sin is the very reason we’re sent to them. If our fear and suspicion are keeping us from the very culture (i.e., people) God sends us to, we have a big problem.
For a very long time now, Western nations have enjoyed unprecedented religious freedom. Yet in this context of such amazing freedom, many Christians in the U.S. have been inculcated with feelings of fear and dread that any day the government could be coming into our places of worship to drag us all away! We’ve instilled in the church an underlying fear and suspicion of the world outside, causing us to always see Christians as victims in our society. There’s a continual feeling that “they” are out to get us, that they’re plotting against us. Of course, when one feels they’re always the victim, that society is plotting against them, it’s easy to start hating the world as our enemies.
When faced with a challenge, the natural response is either fight or flight. Some Christians through much of the 20th century tried the flight approach. Because they feared and suspected the world so much, they tried to hide themselves from it. Increasingly now, many Christians are choosing instead to fight. Based on the same fear and suspicion (instead of the way of Christ) they’re seeking to take over, to conquer the world around them through political and cultural force. This, again, is ignoring the example and teaching of Jesus. He didn’t hide himself from the world, but he also didn’t forcefully take over society.
Even though many Christians are now actively fighting in some sense, they still tend to perpetually think of themselves as victims in society. Now though, instead of all of society plotting against us (which was never true), it’s Democrats and progressives who are supposedly all plotting against Christians and victimizing us. And, again, this fear and suspicion causes Christians to begin viewing others—now Democrats and progressives—as the enemy, people to oppose and defeat (even despise and hate), instead of those to whom we’re lovingly sent. Instead of seeking to spend time with Democrats and progressives—even if you find them morally at fault in some ways—many Christians avoid them at all costs.
So, in any exchange with someone with whom we disagree, our first response is often to “circle the wagons” and defend ourselves (whatever it takes) from what we’re convinced is a hostile attack. Our next instinct is to counterattack, to hit back as forcefully as we can against our enemies. And so—motivated by fear and suspicion—we often create the very atmosphere of mutual distrust and hostility we think we’re responding to. We’re like the proverbial hammer who sees everything as a nail that needs to be pounded down. Instead of engaging people around us in a winsome manner, with love and grace and patience (as Jesus and Paul did), we become angry, strident and judgmental—turning away the very people who are being drawn to Christ, turning them away because we’re nothing like Jesus.
Because of our fear and suspicion, because of our “circle the wagons” mentality, we tend to automatically distrust any of “them”—whoever that is. If we see someone as a feared and even despised enemy, it’s natural for us to distrust and reject everything they say, to assume everything coming from these enemies to have suspect motives. We’ll delve more deeply into this in the next post, but we need to examine an aspect of this problem now.
As soon as some evangelicals realize an idea or truth claim comes from a Democratic or a progressive source, the tendency can be to immediately view it with suspicion and seek to pick it apart, to not even consider the possibility a Democrat (automatically viewed as the enemy and even demonic) could say something of value and truth. Much of this is instinctual because of our ingrained fear and suspicion of those we’ve been taught to view as enemies, those we believe are out to get us.
The reality is there are sincere, committed, biblically-grounded evangelical Christians who are themselves either Democratic or to some degree politically progressive. We don’t usually recognize that—regardless of whether we agree with any of them or not—there are very differing views among Democrats, with some being quite progressive, and others being much more moderate. Some evangelical Christians would see themselves as more centrist, sharing some views with Republicans and some with Democrats, but not completely identifying with either side. But as soon as one of these evangelical Christians offers any input that grants even the slightest credence to something believed by Democrats, the walls immediately go up, the fear and suspicion kick in, and what they’re saying is dismissed without any fair consideration.
Much of the division occurring in churches, though, isn’t between politically conservative evangelicals and progressive evangelicals. It’s between conservative evangelicals who support Donald Trump and those who do not. But we frequently see the same kind of problem. As soon as someone expresses opposition to Trump or the MAGA movement, it’s immediately assumed by many this person is in league with the Democratic Party, and that they’re actually politically progressive (despite everything they may have said to the contrary). And so, again, fear and suspicion drive the response. Rather than being listened to fairly and objectively as a fellow conservative evangelical believer, the Christian critic of Trump will be labeled as a Democrat and then summarily dismissed (and often condemned as not truly Christian). They’re no longer treated as a brother or sister by many—because they’re one of “them.” So everything this person says is now viewed through a lens of suspicion and distrust—regardless of how politically conservative they actually are.
Can Democrats and progressives be motivated by fear and suspicion? Of course they can. But this is rarely a factor in the division or conflict in evangelical churches or in evangelical families. Do all Christian Trump supporters respond the way I’ve described above? Of course not. But a great many do, and this has been a persistent cause of friction in many churches and families. Over the last few years, I and many other pastors have heard Christian after Christian express how “there’s no way they could ever vote for a Democrat,” even a pro-life, moderate Democrat. They view Democrats as being—almost by definition—evil, unchristian, and often demonic. Even if you’re a lifelong Republican, as a Christian this kind of knee-jerk prejudice should concern you.
For the last hundred years or so, we can see how fear and suspicion of the culture around us has been a powerful factor affecting the way evangelical Christians have related to others. In recent years, this fear and suspicion has been focused on anyone opposing the Republican or conservative political cause. For a long time, this didn’t cause much of a problem within many evangelical churches and families because they largely shared political and cultural views.
But over the last decade, we’ve experienced a new challenge, with many politically and culturally conservative evangelicals strongly supporting Donald Trump, and other politically and culturally conservative evangelicals just as strongly opposing him. So rather than the fear and suspicion being directed just at those outside the church, now it’s also been focused on other Christians within the church. When some Christians—rightly or wrongly—have expressed concern or opposition to Trump or the MAGA movement, the response has often been one of suspicion and distrust, treating them as one of “them,” as one of the enemy.
We see in Scripture that this motivation of fear and suspicion isn’t the way of Jesus and his apostles, and that it’s contrary to what we’re taught in passages such as 2 Timothy 1:7:
For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.
Fear and suspicion were never healthy motivators in evangelical churches and families, even if they created a false sense of community because everyone was fearing and suspecting the same people. Now we’re reaping what we’ve sown. Instead of iron sharpening iron (Proverbs 27:17) in the church and in our families, making us sharper and stronger followers of Christ, Christians are turning this longstanding fear and suspicion—and the resulting animosity and contempt—against other Christians, reaping division and distrust among the people of God, and even tearing apart churches and families. We’ll continue examining the nature of this division in the next two posts in this series, and then look at what we can do in response.
Evangelical Christians and Partisan Politics
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